DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the other characters mentioned and I'm not making any money out of this. Only the plot is mine.

WARNING: This fan fic contains slash themes, which is male/male relationships. If homosexual themes bother you, don't read this.

Rated: R, not really worth it yet but I'm anticipating events to come ;)

Chapter 3

Draco was very tired. As he sat at the Slytherin table that morning, he had to keep pinching himself so that he would stay awake. The night before, after he had woken from that hideous dream featuring Potter, he hadn't been able to sleep from the trauma it had inflicted upon him, so he had left his dormitory, intending to go for a midnight stroll. He'd avoided the Astronomy Tower which, although offering a breath-taking view, would also have provided him with the company of numerous snogging couples. Instead, he'd opted for a walk on the far side of the lake, away from the prying eyes of any teachers stalking the corridors and of Mrs Norris. He'd sat there, severely disturbed by the fact that Potter was still in his mind, when the damned boy appeared, literally, out of nowhere on the other side of the lake. Draco had hidden quickly behind a bush, unwilling to risk a confrontation and awkward questions as to why he was out there in the middle of the night. Instead, he had satisfied himself by spying on Potter and wondering what the Golden Boy was doing there. Potter appeared to be thinking deeply and didn't look as though he was going to be moving very far in the near future, so Draco had snuck away walking on the sheltered bank of the lake to avoid Potter seeing him. The sun had been rising as he'd gotten back to his room, and at that point he'd given up on the thought of getting any more sleep.

The other students from his house were talking around him, moaning about the Gryffindors again. wondering briefly on the point of this pointless activity as the Gryffindors were blatantly always going to be the apple of Dumbledore's eye and would therefore always get preferential treatment from the mad old boot, Draco let his mind drift away from the petty worries of his friends and, once again, his thoughts turned to his disturbing dreams from the night before. Draco was normally a sound sleeper who very rarely remembered his dreams, and was generally never even aware if he'd had any. Last night though, it had been so vivid. He could remember every moment of it, but that wasn't what was bothering him the most. What was distressing him and nagging at his mind, were the feelings that had accompanied the dream in question.

Draco's upbringing had been, for want of a better word, cold. His parents had never made him feel unloved, his mother had always made sure he was dressed in clothes of the highest quality, had the best toys and was never bored, and he knew that both of his parents cared deeply for him, but there was no emotional attachment. He could spend hours in a room with his father, discussing politics, school work or his future, but they had never made any emotional contact. All feelings were made implicit as there was no need to discuss them. Draco hadn't missed this emotional intimacy with his parents, because you can't miss what you've never fully experienced. However, the emotions he had experienced in that dream…he'd felt very safe and close to Potter. Comfortable. But he'd ruined it by trying to intensify the sensations. The problem was that, upon waking, those feelings had stayed with him. It was as though a craving had been awoken inside of him, and he absolutely no control over it.

Draco was, of course, appalled to even be considering having any feelings towards the wretched boy. They fought, despised, challenged and tormented each other. Draco refused to even attempt to consider the possibility of forming some sort of emotional attachment to him.

His eyes drifted over to the Gryffindor table. Potter was looking desolately at his plate, half-heartedly moving his food around. 'God, he looks as bad as I feel! I wonder how long he stayed out there last night. What could be bothering him that much?' thought Draco, stifling a yawn and momentarily speculating on whether it had anything with what Potter had been trying to tell him the previous evening. He rose to leave as he realised that the tedious conversation around him was probably what was sending him to sleep, and the movement prompted Potter to look up. Their eyes locked and Draco was riveted to the spot. 'He's so tired. I wonder what's happened.' A shiver ran down his spine. He mentally shook himself and stalked from the room, cursing Potter and his stupid green eyes.

**********

Harry was so lost in his thoughts, that when Hermione gently touched his arm to get his attention, he nearly jumped a mile.

"Harry?" she asked softly, "What's wrong?"

Harry had noticed Malfoy leaving a few minutes ago. Their eyes had met and he's seen some sort of question there, which was quickly followed by confusion and irritation before he'd stomped off. Since then he's been completely lost in thought about Lupin. He'd been thinking about Lupin since he'd woken up the previous night. He'd been dreaming about Malfoy, but not one of his normal dreams, this dream had hurt him; telling him things he wasn't willing to accept. Harry had also been unable to sleep and had slipped out of Gryffindor Tower wearing his invisibility cloak. He'd avoided the Astronomy Tower, like Malfoy had, and had sat thinking by the lake about Lupin until well after the sun had risen.

It was mainly because of his exhausted state, that Harry had missed the concerned looks which were passing between Ron and Hermione over the breakfast table. He knew he needed to tell them now.

"I've got something to tell you, but not here." he said quietly. "Let's go."

"But Harry, you've hardly eaten anything! We can wait until you've finished if you can't tell us here." said Hermione, always trying to mother him.

Harry looked straight into her eyes, and she flinched at what she saw there.

"Trust me, after you've heard what I have to say you won't be hungry either. Let's go." He repeated.

The three of them rose to leave, just as Dumbledore stood at the staff table. He looked at Harry and nodded, giving silent permission for them to go. As they left the hall, Harry heard Dumbledore start to speak.

"My dear students, it is my most unenviable duty this morning to inform you that…"

**********

The Gryffindor common room was empty; Gryffindors are never ones to miss meals. The three friends sat by the unlit fire and Ron and Hermione shared another worried look.

"Harry –" Ron started.

"It'll be easier if I just tell you straight." Said Harry quickly, wanting to get this over with. He looked down at his hands, unable to look them both in the eye.

"Yesterday evening Dumbledore called me into his office…"

*FLASHBACK*

"Harry my dear boy, have a seat." Said Dumbledore kindly. He was trying to sound his usual cheerful self, but Harry could tell that there was something wrong. There was no twinkle in Dumbledore's watery, blue eyes.

"What can I do for you sir?" Harry asked as he sat, dreading the answer he would get. At that point, Professor Snape quietly entered the office, with a curt nod to Dumbledore, he went to stand at the window with his back to them.

"Severus." was Dumbledore's only acknowledgement of his being there. Harry was surprised by his Potions masters presence but refrained from commenting. Dumbledore returned his attention to Harry.

"Harry, I'm afraid I have some grave news to tell you." Harry's heart sank further.

"Is it Sirius?" he asked nervously. Snape's back visibly tensed at the mention of Harry's godfather. Despite still being on the run from the Ministry, Harry knew that Sirius had been working tirelessly with the other members of the Order in the fight against the ever-increasing members of Voldemort's supporters. Harry constantly feared for the safety of his godfather; his closest link to his parents.

"No Harry, Sirius is fine." The relief on Harry's face was obvious. "However, I'm afraid I cannot say as much for our friend Remus Lupin. I'm sorry to have to tell you that he was killed last night in a Death Eater ambush. He was to meet, in secret, someone who we thought was a reliable source from Voldemort's inner circle. Unfortunately, we were mistaken." Dumbledore's voice trailed off as he looked away.

Harry couldn't move; couldn't think. 'He's gone. He's gone. He was always so nice to me. Tried to help…' He looked to Dumbledore, confused.

"Who?" he asked quietly. He was on information overload, not really taking anything in but needing to be told. Dumbledore looked back to him, his eyes glistening.

"Pardon?"

"Who was he supposed to be meeting?"

"Harry, that's not important. I can't tell you." Harry was still confused.

"But how could you let this happen? I mean, weren't you careful? How could you not have known? He was…" his voice failed him as silent tears ran down his cheeks. Dumbledore looked sympathetic at his outburst. 'He has a right to be angry. We should have known.'

Snape had turned from the window and was approaching Harry. As he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, Harry looked up into his eyes, still confused.

"I know you were close to him, and he will be a great loss to our cause, but Harry, this should not let us give up hope. We have to remember that this is nobody's fault but Voldemort's. There was nothing we could have done to prevent this. There are other plans in mind and his death will be revenged. There will be other opportunities-"

"Severus!" said Dumbledore sharply. "I hardly think that Harry needs to be troubled with news of the Order."

"Albus, he's sixteen and this directly affects him. You know he needs to be told."

"I realise this, but I feel that now is not the time. Let him grieve for the loss of his friend. Harry, I shall leave it to you to tell Miss Granger and Mr Weasley. I shall be informing the rest of the school tomorrow morning. Harry?"

Harry was numb, letting the conversation flow over him.

"Er, yes sir?"

"Sirius will arrive here tomorrow evening Harry. I'm sure you'll want to see him."

"Urm, yes. Of course."

"Are you alright Harry? Is there anything we can do for you? A sleeping potion may help."

"No. No, I'm fine. Thank you." Harry rose slowly, unsure of his movements. He left Dumbledore's office in a daze.

*END FLASHBACK*

Harry looked up from his hands as he finished talking. Tears were streaming down Hermione's face. Harry wanted to take her hand, try to comfort her, but he found that there was nothing he could say, so he did nothing. Ron looked extremely close to tears himself; his head was down and facing away from them.

"Poor Lupin…" Ron managed, in a choked voice. The three friends sat in silence for a long time after that, mourning the loss of their old professor and friend. There were no words left to say.

**********

"Didn't you hear Draco?" Pansy Parkinson asked in her simpering voice.

"Hear what?" Draco snapped irritably. He was too tired for this and just the sound of Pansy's voice was getting on his nerves. He was sitting in the Slytherin common room relaxing and trying to ease the headache that was forming behind his eyes. There were a few minutes left before his first lesson of the day and he didn't want to spend the rest of the morning with a throbbing head. Pansy's interruption was not welcome.

"Well they announced it at breakfast darling." Draco winced at her accentuation of the word, he was nobody's darling. "Actually I'm surprised your father didn't tell you!"

"Didn't tell me what Pansy? Just spit it out. Your voice is hurting my brain. If Draco's words hurt her feelings, Pansy didn't show it.

"Well, Professor Lupin, you remember him don't you, the werewolf? Well he's dead. Died in a Death Eater attack."

"No I hadn't heard. Poor old Professor Lupin. Hardly a loss I fear." said Draco coldly. 'So that was what was wrong with Potter. I wonder if he's OK' Pansy, satisfied that her piece of gossip had been acknowledged, wandered off to find anyone else that hadn't heard the news, leaving Draco to his confused thoughts once more.

'Why do I care if he's OK? Oh no, it can't be. Oh dear God. I care…'

**********

Our footprints in the sand of life meet.

Yours are steady and even,

Never wavering or stopping.

But mine are erratic,

Leaving, and then returning to your side.

Eventually, I make up my mind,

And our footprints parallel as I finally understand and love you.

Our feet and hearts merge

Until we are one,

Finally, in everlasting peace.

The footprints stop,

They swirl and circle each other,

As we dance together.

**********

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm amazed I'm still writing this, something seems to have inspired me. And yes, the poems at the end are mine. I'm more of a poet than a story writer and I can't seem to resist putting them in when I feel they fit.